The Unexpected | LotR Fanfiction

Chapter 55

I cursed over and over, the obscenities falling from my lips as I tripped over roots. The orcs jeered at me from behind, voices laced with victory. I had no weapons. No blades. What am to do--?

Oh, Lumornel, you idiot.

Refraining from slapping myself in the forehead, I halted and swung around to face the orcs. Not even giving them time to wonder why their quarry suddenly stopped before I blasted them.

The creatures flew backward in the sky as a small amount of light formed in the air, as if mist. But that soon disappeared as the orcs came to a landing. But I was already in motion by the time one orc slammed into a tree, causing the large plant to crack. He fell, slumped motionless. The other, however, landed amid the blackened brush, groaning as he strained to get up.

No.

I rushed forward and kicked the orc in the ribs, throwing him back to the ground. For sure, many of his ribs were broken. I didn't hesitate. I picked a rock amid the twigs the size of my fist. Kneeling over the orc, I preceded to bash its skull in. Over and over and over.

I didn't notice as its black blood sprayed my face.

Nor did I notice the shadows wreathing my wrists, singing a song of rage and murder.

*

The orc's skull no longer resembled a head. A black pulp only remained. If it wasn't for the bits of skull or the few chunks of non-liquidized brain, it would have looked as if the orc had been decapitated, it's head nowhere to be found.

I huddled near a tree, rough bark scraping my shoulder as my nails buried in the dirt, staring at the gruesome corpse.

I had done that. Me.

Its black blood still speckled my face—more than speckled it, actually, and the substance seemed to be permanently buried into my nails. No amount of scraping would get it out, now my own blood mingled with its'.

I need to forget about this for now. Push out the gruesome murder I committed—

But it wasn't murder, was it? I had been defending myself. But from what? The orc was already injured, it probably wouldn't have pursued me if I had left it to die.

This forest—it's starting to affect me.

I studied my wrists. The inky rivulets didn't stream around my fingers, my skin. Had it been those shadows, then? Did they make me bash in a living creatures skull?

Yes. I had felt it's soft tendril in my mind, hazing my vision with rage—

But I had enjoyed it.

I turned away from the corpse, disgusted with myself, and push myself off the ground. Carefully moving around my puddle of vomit, I desperately wished the sun penetrated the canopy of trees. If I could just find north, it would make this so much easier.

But I had no sun, no way to tell direction, no way home.

I contemplated yelling for help again, but if there had been two orcs nearby, how many more could be waiting? It's a miracle they hadn't heard me calling for Legolas earlier.

Legolas.

Where was he? Is he searching for me? Is he—

Legolas can take care of himself. He grew up in these woods and patrolled them for Valar knows how long.

*********

I wandered aimlessly about for... days? Or had it been weeks? With no way to tell time—besides exerting myself and wasting precious time climbing an enormous tree to see the sun's direction—sleep came... uneasily. I had been exhausted—but it felt too early in the day to sleep. I had been full of vigor—and yet it felt like the depths of night. Of course, I tried sleeping, but when I knew orcs could be nearby, just out of sight... So, I tried huddling down amid brush or in the hollow of a tree but my skin crawled when I imagined just how many bugs could crawl on me while sleeping.